


How do I make you mine?

by Stylin_son



Category: The Maze Runner (2014), The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: ??? i think, Angst, M/M, Smut, basically this my first time writing minho/newt, but i love them together so much ok, it starts off a little slow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 05:13:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3107462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stylin_son/pseuds/Stylin_son
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newt's got a huge crush on Minho, shit happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How do I make you mine?

**Author's Note:**

> felt like there wasn't enough minho/newt fluff/smut so i decided to write some. hope you like it!

 

Newt stood in front of the doors, trying to keep calm. Minho and Thomas should’ve been back by now. Beside him a small group of boys had gathered, all waiting for the Runners to return.

“Where the shuck are they?” Newt whispered to himself.

“They’ll be back,” Chuck whispered back, almost making Newt jump. He hadn’t noticed the chubby boy coming to stand next to him.

Newt just nodded, nervously glancing at the sky. Just when Newt and the others had started to lose hope, they heard voices coming from inside the maze. Newt could hear Thomas cursing, and not a few seconds later he came around the corner, dragging Minho alongside him. Newt’s heart dropped into his stomach. Minho was clearly out of it, barely conscious. It took all of Newt’s strength not to run to the shucking maze and help Thomas carry Minho.  

“C’mon Tommy!” Newt shouted.

Thomas barely looked up, just continued dragging Minho and himself towards the doors. After what felt like an hour (but was probably really only 30 agonizing seconds) Thomas and Minho made it safely through the doors.

The other boys dispersed once the two Runners had made it through, some clapping Thomas on the back as they left.  Newt ran over and grabbed one of Minho’s arms, taking some of the weight off Thomas.

“What happened?” Newt tried to keep his voice steady.

“We were running from Grievers,” Thomas panted. “We were running and I’m not really sure what happened, but all of a sudden Minho was down.”

Newt stopped breathing, his heart stopped beating. “Was he stung?”

“No,” Thomas shook his head. “I checked. He’s ok, but he must’ve hit his head or something. Everything out of his mouth has been klunk.”

“What’s he been saying?” Newt asked as they dragged him to the Homestead.

“Well,” Thomas frowned as they laid Minho down on a bed. “Your name a lot, honestly.”

“What?” Newt tried to seem rather disinterested as he prepared to do a full medical check. Not that he could be disinterested in Minho if he tried, but Thomas didn’t need to know that.

“Yeah, I’m not sure.” Thomas shrugged. “Just kept saying your name.”

“Well,” Newt paused, trying to keep his feelings from spilling out, “get your shank ass outta here and go get cleaned up. Unless you need my help, but you seem fine.”

Thomas just smiled a little and walked out the door, leaving Newt alone with an unconscious Minho. He stripped Minho of his shirt and began running standard tests; checking for broken bones, Griever stings, or any large gashes.

“What’s bloody wrong with you?” Newt murmured once he’d finished checking Minho.

Aside from a rather nasty bump on his head, Minho was absolutely fine. While he might have a mild concussion, he should’ve woken up by now. Newt sighed and resolved to stay by Minho’s bed side till he woke up.

It was many hours later, in the middle of night, when Minho finally woke up. Newt had started to drift off when Minho woke with a start, as if he’d just woken up from a nightmare.

“Finally,” Newt said with a yawn. “Took you bloody long enough to wake up.”

“What?” Minho looked utterly confused.

“It’s the middle of the night, you shank.” Newt replied, handing a glass of water to the boy.

“What happened?” Minho asked as he took a sip.

“I dunno, guess you hit your head pretty hard, according to Tommy.” Newt shrugged.

“Oh,” was all Minho managed.

Newt sat patiently, waiting for Minho to figure out whatever was going through his head. The two sat in silence for a few minutes, Minho occasionally taking sips of water at Newts command.

“Do you remember anything?” Newt questioned.

“We were running from Grievers,” Minho said slowly. “When we turned a corner, it hit me, and I must’ve hit my head.” The boy paused, “but I’ve got no shucking idea how I got away.”

“Miracle, or something,” Newt shrugged. “I’m just bloody glad you’re alive.”

“Me too,” Minho smiled.

Newt tried to push down the butterflies in his stomach. It wasn’t his fault, though. Minho was just really shucking amazing. His body, his smile, even his personality. And his effect on Newt was astounding. Newt remembered what Thomas had said about Minho saying his name, and was about to ask Minho about it when Minho laid back down.

“G’night shuck face,” Minho mumbled into his pillow. “Thanks for taking care of me,” he added after a couple seconds.

“Of course,” Newt whispered. He ruffled Minho’s hair before hopping into his own bed for the night.

Not that he got much sleep, as his dreams were filled of kissing a shirtless Minho. He woke up in the morning tired and with a need to get all his sexual tension out of his system. Although how he was going to that was a problem. None of the boys in the Glade were open about their sexuality. Sure, some of the boys had had flings, or hook ups to let off some steam. Being cooped up in a maze with only boys was difficult.

Newt was daydreaming at the breakfast table about all the pretty boys he wanted to kiss when Thomas came and sat next to him. Newt eyed Thomas. _Now there’s a pretty boy,_ he thought to himself.

“Minho’s looking for you,” was all Thomas said as he sat down.

“Where is he?” Newt jumped up, eager to see Minho.

“Somewhere by the forest, I think.” Thomas winked at Newt before he shoved some egg into his mouth and struck up a conversation with Chuck.

Newt did his best not to sprint to the forest, or to let his imagination get the best of him, but he failed. A million and two scenarios ran through Newt’s mind. Was Minho going to be angry Newt banned him from running for at least 2 days? Or was this something completely unrelated?

“Newt,” Minho’s voice called from somewhere deeper in the forest.

“What are you doing in there, you shank?” Newt asked as he picked his way through the woods.

“Thinking,” came Minho’s replied from somewhere above Newt.

“What –“ Newt looked up and saw Minho sitting in a tree. “I thought I told you to slim it with physical things,” New scowled.

“Come and get me then,” Minho smirked.

Newt mumbled swear words to himself as he made his way up the tree. After a few near death experiences (some of the branches wouldn’t hold his weight) he made it to where Minho was perched.

“How did you get up here?” Newt asked, still frowning. “If you fall, I’m not patching you up again.”

“Like you’d leave me to rot,” Minho rolled his eyes.

“I might,” Newt warned. “I can ruthless.”

“You, ruthless?” Minho laughed. “I’d like to see you leave me for dead.”

“Shut up,” Newt huffed.

“I’m just playing with ya, shank.” Minho reached across a branch and ruffled his hair. Newt half-heartedly swatted it away. “I just wanted to talk to you about last night.”

“What about it?” Newt tried to figure out where in the hell Minho was going with this.

“Well, uh, Thomas said I was saying weird stuff, and uh, I was just wondering…” Minho looked apprehensive.

“You mean like how you kept saying my name?” Newt winked at Minho, attempting to make it a joke.

“Did I really?” All the blood seemed to drain from Minho’s face. “I guess, I uh, just needed some shucking medical help.”

“Uh huh,” was all Newt replied. The two boys sat in a tension filled silence for a few moments. Newt swore that Minho must be able to hear his heart beating hard. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Minho, watching his facial expressions.

“Hey, Newt?” Minho was the first to break the silence.

“Yeah?” Newt turned his head to look at Minho.

“Have you ever, like, y’know…” Minho seemed to be gathering his courage. “Have you ever thought about trying it, but with boys?” he finally managed to get out.

“Oh,” Newt could feel his cheeks heat up. “I mean, like, once.” He shrugged, trying to downplay it.

“With who?” Now Minho was blushing even more than Newt (if that was even possible).

“Jesus, Minho, can I honestly answer that?” Newt let out a little nervous laughter.

“For a while I thought you had a thing with Thomas,” Minho admitted.

“Tommy?” Newt laughed for real this time. “I mean, if he wanted to make out, maybe. But he doesn’t seem the type. Not really even my type,” he added.

“So, who is your type?” Minho pressed.

Newt took a deep breath. Should he say it? Was this what Minho was trying to get at?

“I mean, you could get it, if you wanted.” As soon as he said it he felt like he’d be better off just throwing himself out of the tree than waiting for Minho’s response. There was a pause.

“Really?” Minho turned and looked Newt up and down.

“Well, like,” Newt started stumbling over his words. _Get it together, shank_ , he thought to himself.

Luckily, Minho wasn’t one for a lot of words. He crossed the gap between them, pressing his lips against Newt’s. And for a few short seconds, Newt was in absolute heaven. Minho’s lips were warm, and the feeling of a little stubble was the best thing Newt had ever felt.

“Are you sure?” Minho pulled back, searching Newt’s eyes.

“Never been more sure,” Newt nodded.

“We’d need to be careful,” Minho reminded him.

“I know,” Newt rolled his eyes.

“Then meet me here, under this tree, tonight.” Minho winked, and with that, started his descent down the tree.

Newt sat there in a moment of stunned silence. Had he really just agreed to hook up with Minho? He was in shock. He wondered if Minho would ever want anything more than a one-time thing, but Newt decided not to dwell on that now.

The day dragged on, and dinner dragged on even longer. It was like the closer he got to night fall, the longer it seemed to take for the minutes to go by. After some night time wrestling, throughout which Newt had checked Minho out not that subtly, the other boys headed off to bed. Thomas tried to talk to him, but Newt excused himself under the pretense of needed to use the bathroom. After grabbing a blanket (which he had to wrap around himself and pretend like it was too cold to go to the bathroom without one) he ran towards the woods.

“Minho?” Newt called softly once he’d reached the tree.

“Here,” a hand reached out of the darkness and grabbed his waist.

“Shank, hiding in the bloody dark, givin’ me a heart attack,” Newt mumbled.

“Shut up Newt,” Minho laughed as he pressed their lips together.

It was a rather effective way to get Newt to stop talking. He let the blanket drop, wrapping his arms around Minho’s neck and running his fingers through the boy’s dark hair. Minho pushed Newt up against the tree, securing his hands on the smaller boy’s waist as he slowly started rolling his hips.

“Shit,” Newt whispered. He was in absolute ecstasy. Minho’s tongue in his mouth, his hands on his waist, and especially Minho’s hips were driving him insane.

Minho move from his mouth down to his neck, sucking a line down Newt’s neck that would definitely be there in the morning. Newt tugged Minho’s shirt over his head, doing the same with his own. Before Newt could get a good look at Minho’s body (which he already knew was gorgeous) Minho started kissing a trail down from Newt’s neck to the waist of his pants.

“Minho,” Newt’s breath caught in his throat.

“You want that?” Minho asked, his voice husky, as he kissed his way back up Newt’s body to his lips.

“Yes,” Newt whined, rolling his hips against Minho’s. If Minho didn’t start touching him soon he was going to explode.

Minho kissed Newt, hard and filthy while he worked on pulling down Newt’s pants. Newt sucked at Minho’s tongue, eliciting a moan from him. Minho’s breath stuttered, his hips pressing even harder into Newt’s. Minho reached down at grabbed Newt’s cock, stroking it agonizingly slow.

“Minho,” Newt moaned, threading his fingers in Minho’s hair and giving it a yank.

Minho just worked faster, kissing and sucking his way down until his lips met his hand. Newt’s moan was so loud when Minho took him in that he briefly worried someone would hear. That thought was erased from his mind as Minho worked Newt even deeper into his mouth, running his tongue over the slit. Newt threaded both hands through Minho’s, tugging at it. Minho moaned around Newt’s cock, sending heavenly vibrations through Newt’s body. Just when Newt thought he was going to come, Minho popped off.

“Do you wanna ride me?” Minho nipped at Newt’s ear.

“So badly,” Newt moaned.

“Then suck,” Minho commanded as he put two fingers in Newt’s mouth.

After a few seconds Minho pulled his fingers out and reached behind Newt to insert one finger. Newt tensed, willing himself to relax. Minho seemed to sense his discomfort.

“Relax babe,” Minho whispered, kissing Newt sweetly. Newt tried to focus on Minho’s lips and their sweet taste.

After a minute, Minho added a second finger, slowly scissoring him open. It was simultaneously the most uncomfortable and yet the best thing Newt had ever felt. By the time Minho inserted a third finger Newt was begging for it, practically fucking Minho’s fingers.

“Did you bring a blanket?” Minho asked, bringing Newt out of the trance he’d been in.

“Yeah, on the ground,” Newt managed to get out.

Without warning, Minho pulled his fingers out, leaving Newt empty and whining. After some rustling, Minho had managed to spread out the blanket on the ground. He motioned for Newt to come to him, but Newt paused for a moment to appreciate Minho’s physic in the moonlight.

“Good?” Minho asked Newt crawled between his legs and positioned himself just over Minho’s cock.

Newt just nodded, nerves getting the best of him and making him shake slightly. He sank down, moaning as Minho filled him up. Minho grabbed his hips, biting his lips and stifling a moan. Newt slowly began to move and down, relishing the feeling. Minho hitched his hips to meet Newt’s, going even deeper and hitting his prostate.

“Newt,” Minho was practically mewling Newt’s name as Newt rode him.

It didn’t take long till both of them were on the cusp. Newt was hardcore riding Minho now, swiveling his hips as Minho snapped his hips to meet Newt’s.

“Minho,” Newt moaned. “I think I’m gonna…” he couldn’t even get the rest of the sentence out.

“Such a good boy, do it, c’mon,” Minho encouraged.

Newt came, spilling all of Minho’s stomach. Minho was quick to follow, his hips stuttering as he came. Newt gingerly pulled himself off of Minho, rolling over next to him. Minho let out a sigh, and pulled Newt so that his rested on Minho’s shoulder. They stayed like that, cuddling, for a while.

“Minho?” Newt’s voice sounded loud in place of their silence.

“Yeah?” Minho whispered, fingers running through Newt’s hair.

“Was this just like, a one-time thing? Or would you ever…” Newt left it open ended, hoping Minho would fill in the blank.

Minho sighed, long and heavy. “As much as I’d love for us to able to be together, I don’t know how it’d go over in the Glade.” Newt nodded sadly, seeing where this was going. “That being said,” Minho quickly added, “I don’t see why we could make _this_ ,” he gestured at the two of them, “a thing. I mean, you’d have to be ok with it being like this. We could never really go public.”

Newt nodded again, this time smiling. “Good that,” he answered. Burying his face into the crook of Minho’s neck, with Minho’s arms wrapped securely around him, Newt drifted off to sleep. His dreams were filled with Minho, but this time when he woke up, Minho still asleep next to him, he felt content. Minho was as good as his, even if they’d never admit it to the other boys.   

 

 


End file.
